In: Cognito
by Poisoned Scarlet
Summary: "Just follow the beat of the soul." - ten songs, ten drabbles, ten moments. Inspired by ubyrai's own collection.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater nor the song titles/artists mentioned in this work of fiction.

**In: Cognito  
by. **_Poisoned Scarlet_

**Always All Ways **by _Lostprophets_

He screwed up.

He rested his head in his arms, bent over the handles of his motorcycle at the edge of town.

There was no reason to spew those words; venom that scorched her heart, simply because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

She had been angry, he had been furious, and they both knew their anger, combined, was explosive.

"_YOU'RE NO DIFFERENT THAN ANY OTHER MAN!" She shrieked, and to his surprise she had begun to cry. "THAT'S IT! IT'S OVER!" She stormed to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the frames hanging on the walls._

"Damn it," Soul softly swore, lifting his eyes to gaze at the rising sun. It peaked out of the horizon, a strip of bright orange in the distance. His bike vibrated under him, a low growl in his ears, and after a second of deliberation, he revved the bike and turned back to the city, intent on fixing their dented relationship.

* * *

**Out of Control **by _Hoobastank_

"Idiot – go right!"

"I _am_!" Maka stubbornly stated, but took left instead. She heard her newly-appointed partner swear, spitting out her name as she leaped over a rooftop and slid down the shingles dangerously.

"Why didn't you go right, like I told you to!" Soul snapped, being her eyes and watching the beast near them with every misstep. "Dumbass – now it's gonna' catch up to us! You should've just listened to me!"

"It won't catch us!" Maka insisted, but she was doubtful. "Not if I can outrun it!"

"It's a _kishin _ - a _wolf _kishin! You can barely outrun Patty, and she's got more ADD than Black Star does when he's _high._" Soul sarcastically said, much to her fury.

"Shut _up_! I know what I'm doing!"

"Then go _left _this time, genius!"

"But—!"

Maka felt the presence of the wolf behind her and she gasped, slipping and falling hard on her bottom. The slip had saved her from being beheaded, however, and she sat frozen for a long second, losing whatever control she had of the situation in a heart beat.

_Soul—!_

Soul transformed, flipping into the air before landing on his feet beside her.

She saw, to her horror, that he ran off; disappearing behind the beast.

_Is he...is he just going to leave me here? _A terrible fright, like nothing she had ever felt before, drowned her. It paralyzed her with fear. A strangled scream escaped her throat when she felt claws dig into the back of her trench coat, her scream becoming a shriek when she realized she was completely alone.

"Hey, ugly, over here!"

The wolf paused, turning, and Maka was shocked to find Soul digging his blade into its throat viciously.

"MAKA! DON'T BLANK ON ME!" Soul screamed, extending his hand to her.

She didn't hesitate: she took it, spinning him once and digging the razor that was his blade into the kishin's shoulder with a fierce battle cry.

* * *

**Halo (Mysto & Pizzo Dance Remix) **by _Beyonce _

Sometimes, when he was pissed at her, he didn't want to believe he had fallen so hard for a girl with too much knowledge packed into her brain, and too little packed into her _assets._

And then most of the time he didn't mind; he didn't care for her small assets, he didn't mind her nagging, he didn't care that she could make him say uncool things, and he didn't even care that he would _do_ some uncool things for her sake_._

"Tired yourself again, huh?" Soul mumbled, and a soft smile grazed his lips when she shifted in her sleep and slumped further down his shoulder. He carefully removed his arm from under her, gently allowing it to drape around her shoulders. "I told you not to say up so late last night studying..."

She didn't rouse, pink lips parted to breathe. Her hair was loose, a sheet of ashy gray down her shoulders. She was still in her Spartoí uniform although she had removed her black thigh-high socks, as she usually did when she came home from school.

Despite calling her uncool because of that _name_, and despite all the good reasons for not wanting to label her as such, it was during safe periods like these that he could say it without any repercussions.

His fingers feathered her soft cheek, the warmth that transferred into his fingertips comforting. They trailed down to her nose, to the curve of her neck. Her skin was soft, despite the abuse it suffered from traveling to all types of climates during their missions.

He sunk a little deeper in the couch, sliding low enough so their heads were leveled. It was an awkward position, from anyone else's point of view, but Soul did not mind, as his eyes roamed the angled planes of her face.

A smile twitched on his lips when he caught the soft mumble of his name, and her hand reflectively clenched into a fist on her lap.

"Stupid angel." He whispered, gently flicking her nose with his finger. "Your halo is showing again." He snorted a laugh when she merely groaned and rested heavily against him, her hand clenching again and his name escaping her lips in a soft blow of air.

* * *

**So Contagious **by _Acceptance_

"Stop it, Soul..." Maka whispered, casting her eyes to the floor intently. Her hands fisted by her sides, jaw taut as he gripped the sides of her arms tightly.

"Why _not?_" He demanded, harshly. "Give me a reason why we can't!"

Maka took in a steady stream of air to settle her heart, flinching when she felt his breath on the rim of her ear. "You can't." She shook her head jerkily, sucking in a breath when his hand cupped her cheek and forced her to met his eyes. "We can't do this. You're my weapon partner. We can't go against school code – !"

"Bullshit. You know as well as I do that the school code against relationships between meister's and weapon's only counts when you're under-aged!"

"We _are_ under-aged!"

"You're eighteen, I'm nineteen." He flatly stated, keeping her head up. She avoided his eyes but he wouldn't remove his own from hers. "I wouldn't call ourselves under-aged anymore..."

"No, it's not right. Soul, this is out of line, we can't do this!" Maka vigorously shook her head, her heart shaking in her chest.

"Do you... like someone else, then?" His voice had hardened; a flat tone that made her heart ache because she knew he was hiding his hurt under a mask of aloofness.

"No—I don't! I just can't risk it! You're my partner, practically my best friend, if we do this, it'll ruin _everything!_" She confessed, some of her fear slipping into her words. "I can't risk that, Soul, you have to understand..."

"Even if it _is_ out of line," Soul whispered, and pressed a hand against her chest. Her heart was loud and rapid under his palm; frightened, Soul absently realized, of the intensity of their emotions. "I think it's worth the risk."

Maka bit her lip.

He exhaled a sigh. "You're not keeping up with me. Fine, just answer me this: what do you really want...?"

"Not—_this_." Maka shakily stated, but her arms wrapped around his neck. "I – I don't want the label." She tightened her arms, burying her nose the hollow of his neck. "I can't... really handle that label right now, but..."

Soul felt her hair with his fingers, understanding her reluctance. "Have you heard yourself recently? You're starting to sound like Crona." He chuckled when she grunted in indignation, her finger tapping impatiently on the back of his neck. "Then we'll just stay like this." He decided, somewhat sadly. "Until you're ready... we'll just pretend, like we always do."

* * *

**This Love, This Hate **by _Hollywood Undead_

She tired of this tedious cycle.

She would hold the postcard her mother had sent her ages ago, staring at the image of a pyramid in Egypt, her latest travel location, and she would feel tears begin to sting her eyes. They would drip onto the postcard, the postcard that had once been held in _her_ hands, and slide down the surface like raindrops trickled down a windowpane.

The expectations she strove to live up to, the rank she had to achieve, were tiresome and stressful. It was an endless cycle to accomplish more than her mother had; more than anyone _else_ had. She would push herself, break her limit repeatedly, and she would always lay back down on her bed every night and wonder if she had done _enough_; if she would truly be able to surpass such an amazing woman like her mama.

Sometimes she thought she wouldn't.

This was one of those times.

Soft plucks, gentle like a lullaby, drifted from beyond her closed door.

Maka lifted her empty eyes from the postcard, to the door that muffled the soft music. She placed the postcard under her pillow and slid off her bed. Her curtains were partially closed, allowing only a strip of moonlight to filter into her room and light her way.

She stood in the doorway of her bedroom for a long time, listening to the soft plucks of a guitar that came from her partners bedroom.

Wiping away the tears that had managed to stream down her cheeks, she walked to his door and rose her hand as if to grasp the knob. But she retracted her hand immediately, knowing that the instant the knob turned and he heard its creak, the music would stop, and her pain would wash back fiercer than ever.

Instead she sat by his door, drawing her legs up to her chest and closing her eyes to immerse herself in the gentle sounds of his new composition.

* * *

**Firework **by _Katy Perry_

"Soul Eater!" Maka commanded chillingly, holding her hand out.

"Oh? The little girl has found her voice at last?" The creature sneered, sinking into a fighting stance.

"This little girl is gonna' kick your sorry ass!" Maka spat, and Soul smirked as he landed in her hand. She tightened her fingers around him, clenching as she wished she could do around that kishin's neck. She rested her scythe against her shoulder, unwilling to submit to the demon again.

"I'd start running if I were you. She's pissed." Soul snarked.

"Tch!" The nightmare kishin scoffed. "She was a sniveling mess a moment ago! Nothing has changed!"

"I beg a differ." Maka darkly stated. She squared her shoulders, the moon bright behind her as she twisted her scythe. "Eddy Kruger, your soul is_ mine!_"

"I'd like to see you _try_, little girl!"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Maka bellowed fiercely, and he could only inhale a sharp breath before she was before him and swiping her blade upon his paralyzed body. She missed by a hairsbreadth, shredding his stripped shirt instead.

"What the hell—you were about to give into me a few seconds ago! What—!" The kishin snarled when she dodged the slash of his knifed hands gracefully and rose her scythe again. "What changed?"

"Your face will if you don't get your ass moving!" Soul laughed mockingly, and Maka smirked and swung him horizontally, eyes glittering rocks of emerald.

The kishin's eyes stayed wide open, mouth popped in a silent _oh shit, _before his body combusted into a spiral of black and a tainted soul was left behind in the place of the condescending Eddy Kruger.

"Seriously, you have to stop blanking out like that." Soul commented offhandedly, diverging from the scythe and reaching over for the soul. Maka stepped closer, and he clutched the soul in his palm greedily. "I don't know how many of those my heart can take." He licked his lips in hunger, throwing his head back and swallowing the red orb whole.

"It's okay – I don't mind." Maka smiled secretly when Soul glanced at her. "As long as I have you there to smack some sense into me, we'll be fine!" She beamed, and he stared for a second before clearing his throat of the remnants of the kishin soul.

"Yeah, sure... little girl."

"Don't you _dare _start with that, Soul." Maka dangerously began, and his grin widened. He loved to piss her off. "Soul Eater!"

"Sure, sure...not promises, though, you do look like a ten year old with those pigtails—YO! WHAT THE HELL?" Soul exclaimed in outrage, when she promptly dropped him on the floor. He _hated_ when she dropped him and she knew that very well; the vibrations made his back ache when he transformed into his usual human form. "C'mon, take a friggin' joke, Maka!"

"Whatever... Jaws."

Soul stared in horror, remembering that nickname had been crudely branded on him by Black Star when he caught a glimpse of the shark documentary Maka had been watching. The name was less than cool and, knowing Maka's temper, she would no doubt spread that crap all around the school.

And then his cool reputation would be forever _ruined! _

He compromised, though clenched teeth: "How's this: I won't call you that as long as you don't call _me_ that?"

"Let's make it a deal?" Maka held out a hand, smugly.

"Deal." Soul sighed, clutching her hand and shaking it once firmly.

* * *

**Toxic (Britney Spears Cover) **by _A Static Lullaby_

He smirked at her.

It wasn't fair, Maka thought helplessly, it simply wasn't _fair._

Maka forced her eyes to the sky as she laid back on the sand. The loud crashes of waves from the sea, the salty air that wrapped around her slim body, helped control the almost carnal urge to push him into the water and sink him under the surface; where it was only the two of them, no interruptions.

Maka let her book fall on her face in frustration at his teasing.

She heard sand crunch nearby and she feared the worst, knowing she was not one to easily restrain her urges. However, luck was not on her side, and she squinted against the intense sun when Soul removed the book from her face.

He loomed over her, all smug with his well-built body and the 'bad-ass', as he dubbed it, scar running down his chest. His silvery hair was wet, glued to his face until he shook out his head like a dog and splattered water all over her.

"Quit it – you're wetting my book, moron!" Maka snapped, sitting up quickly when she caught his eyes running down the length of her body shamelessly. That blue bikini Liz had picked out was suddenly beginning to seem like a bad idea to wear. "What do you _want_, Soul?"

"Come into the water with me." He said, straight to the point. It would have been an innocent request, had it not been for the way his eyes glinted with mischief and his tongue flicked out to lick his lips.

She averted her eyes, bent on staying where she was. "No, it's cold! And _you_ were the one who said I could stay here and read! That's the only reason I agreed to come on this pointless trip!" Maka argued, but Soul merely smirked again; that same insufferable smirk that infuriatingly made her face warm and her heart race.

"I lied." He deadpanned, and he reached down to grab her wrist.

"No – wait – SOUL EATER PUT ME DOWN YOU JERK – !" Maka screeched, her face flooding a terrible red when she felt his hand land none-too-gently on her ass as he hauled her onto his shoulder. Of all the places to grab, it had to be _there! _"You _pervert_! Let me go this instant before I punch your face in – !"

"Sweet, dude, you survived!" Black Star's faraway voice rang. "Throw her in the water on three, got it?"

"ROGER!" Soul shouted back, giving the boy a cheery thumbs up.

Maka snapped her head to Black Star, watching as Tsubaki tried desperately to escape his grasp; also thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then she noticed Kid, who had, apparently, refused to participate in such infantile games, get hauled onto Patty's shoulder instead by her sister.

The girl laughed maniacally, running to the shoreline with Kid screaming like a little girl on her shoulder; something about the waves not crashing in a symmetrical order and the water ruining the absolute symmetry of his hair.

"NOW!"

Soul grinned widely, and Maka screamed in horror when he dashed into the waves and she was thrown from his shoulder and into the freezing water. Her eyes popped open underwater, unable to see anything but the bubbles caused by her flaying. She struggled to the surface, the waves throwing her out of bounce every single time they washed over her.

When she finally breached the surface, gasping in deep lungfuls of air, Soul's laugh registered in her brain and she felt embarrassed heat light her cheeks.

"You ASSHOLE!" Maka furiously spat, splashing water at his face in retribution.

He coughed, still laughing. "You should've seen the look on your face – _priceless!_" He shook his head out again, and Maka stared at him heatedly for one split second he missed before swimming toward him. He noticed, and backed away immediately; being only too familiar with her temper. "Whoa, Maka, chill, it was a _prank – _!"

She lunged and he swore, shutting his eyes as he prepared for a mind-numbing thwack on his head. Instead, he felt her lips crash against his, and her tongue forcefully infiltrate his mouth. He lost his footing, submerging into the water with a muffled yell, but she did not relent.

Air became a necessity but he refused to resurface, responding to her aggressive advances with an equal amount of need. He felt her hands comb through his hair, clamp on the back of his neck as she pressed harder against his mouth; so hard their teeth clanked.

Underwater, sound amplified. He could hear every beat of her legs as she tried to stay still and he could hear the harsh pound of his heart the longer they remained beneath the surface. Which was why it was no wonder he heard the distinct, loud, clear moan that surged up her throat when his hands clutched the firm curve of her buttocks.

Maka suddenly jerked to the surface, bringing him up with her.

He hadn't noticed just how much air he had been in desperate need of; not until he was gasping in greedy mouthfuls of it, and clutching his chest because his lungs burned from being refused air for such a long time.

"You..." Maka panted, attracting his attention immediately. He looked bewildered, she looked satisfied. "...you should have seen the look on your face!" She regained her breath, throwing back at him smugly: "_Priceless._"

* * *

**Human After All **by _Twin Atlantic_

There did come times when he wondered if she was human at all.

She would swipe her blade at their enemies without a flinch, a cold glare in her eyes. She was no longer fazed by blood, jaded by so many years in this brutal job. She sneered at men, degrading them with names and bias declarations, and she was unaffected by the most heartfelt moment between couples.

She mocked them, cynically.

She was strict; disciplined.

She was cold; collected.

She was Maka Albarn, and Maka Albarn was tough-as-nails and did not dawdle, nor was she fazed, for the matter, by the simple things in life.

But then she would remind him she _wasn't _just breathing; she had a heart, she had a soul, and it was simply locked up safely for the majority of the time.

She was not all cool angles and sharp words.

And when that happened, he was there; brushing his fingers against her wet cheeks, silently listening to her sobbing tirade of the cruelties of her life, and gently patting her shoulder and telling her they would get through this together.

Even if she didn't believe him at the moment, she would soon, in the future.

* * *

**Marvellous **by _Dragonette_

Her papa had told her; a lot of times, actually, but it was understandable since Spirit disliked any boy who showed a sprinkle of interest in her.

Her friends had told her; although, her female friends were far more excited by this prospect than naught.

Her own _mother _had mentioned it, once upon a time when they had first begun their partnership. She had been amused, though, and only slightly worried for the well-being of her heart.

"_He's dangerous, Maka."_

"_Be careful, Maka."_

"_Don't be swayed by his words, Maka."_

Yet she was _still_ sitting behind him on his motorcycle, burning the asphalt of the lone desert highway with their speed. The hot sun beat down upon the baked land, sweat building on her temple with every heat wave. His leather jacket was hot on her skin, her own jacket equally burning.

"Hey! How does L.A. sound to you?" Soul asked, over his shoulder. She caught sight of his sharp teeth, exposed in his devilish grin, and once again she felt that disturbing pound in her chest; the one that silenced everything for a split second before it all came rushing back to her in a crash of sound and embarrassment.

"I heard there was a concert there!" Maka yelled. "In a week, actually!"

"Really? Who's playing?"

"_Close to Home_—!"

"We're going!" Soul decided, not needing to hear anymore. "I recently got into that band! You got enough cash?"

"Enough to buy my _own_ ticket!" Maka loftily answered.

Soul laughed, going faster down the empty road. She clutched his midsection tighter, the wind ruffling her loose hair. He had undone her pigtails when he draped one of his many leather jackets over her shoulders, suavely stating the jacket suited her better with loose hair.

"_Huh, you almost look sexy, Maka. You actually look your age—whoa!" He dodged a textbook-blow to his head, her eyes sparking like flint at his teasing words._

"_One more word and I swear I'll knock all of those teeth out of your mouth!"_

"_Sounds painful, no thanks."_

"Still stubborn, huh?" Soul murmured, but she caught the words lost to the wind. "It doesn't matter – it's just you and me for the next two weeks, anyway."

Maka pressed her cheek against his back, a smile spreading on her lips.

She wondered if her papa would freak out when he realized Soul had taken her out of the state for their vacation time, anyway.

* * *

**Monster **by _Meg & Dia_

"**Fear**_ is the basis for everything: **failure**, setbacks, **jealousy**, crime, **betrayal**...and also, _**defeat**_—!"_

"Damn." Maka curses, shutting the book splayed before her. Why were his words coming back to her at such an inopportune time? What use were that insane creatures words to her in such a difficult chapter in her life?

Her mama was remarrying, and she just discovered Blair and her father were dating. Soul was angry with her, and her friends felt awkward around her because of it.

"_Agony and anxiety – that's also a kind of fear."_

"Shut up..."

"_Irritation and intimidation – those, too, are emotions based around fear."_

"Shut the _hell_ up!"

"_Impatience and rage – also a kind of fear."_

"Damn... just stop...please..."

"_And let's not forget _**_pain_**_, the most primitive and unrefined form of fear."_

Maka roars and throws the table over in her fit, making it crash against a bookshelf. It topples precariously, thankfully regaining balance and standing still again.

It's silent.

Maka slides down to her knees and buries her face in her hands.

His voice sounds so real – so solid and alive – that it makes her tremble despite the fact that she _saw _him disappear; she _personally _defeated the Kishin Asura.

"_It doesn't matter if you kill me or not! Insanity will never go away – there will be others like me, with different names!"_

"I know..."

"_What use it is?"_

"Who gives a damn?" Maka quotes herself, her voice a quivering whisper.

"_Just who the hell are you?"_

"Maka Albarn, Two-Star Demon Scythe Meister—!"

"_No – I didn't ask for that! I didn't ask for your name, you moron! Who the hell are you?"_

"Who else can I be but _me?_" Maka cries. This hasn't been the first time she's heard Asura's voice echo in the plains of her mind. She knows it's a delusion. It's not real because there's no one else in the room with her, but that doesn't stop the voice from reappearing.

She can ignore it half the time.

When everything is right in her world, the voice disappears into the more toxic reaches of her mind.

But when things go wrong, when she's this pained and confused, it comes back with a vengeance and she can hear is as crystal-clear as if he were standing right before her.

Insanity is still in the air. Asura was defeated nearly two years ago but his words held life: there were others with his intentions, different motives, spreading this toxic mass across the globe.

She mixes fantasy with reality now and that's when it becomes really scary. It's becoming harder and harder to separate the two.

Maka holds her hands together to stop them from trembling. She can't take this much overload.

"_Are you scared?"_

"Shut up! You're not real – you're dead!" Maka shouts into empty space. She holds her head, shaking it vigorously. "You're not real..."

"_Are you sure about that... Maka Albarn?"_

Maka snaps her eyes open and whips her head up at the sound of footfalls. The shadows stretch like vectors, arrows that point accusingly at her. Her stomach hurts, like she's about to hurl, but she's relieved when it's only Sid who appears at the stairwell.

"Maka?" Sid asks, in confusion. "I heard some disturbance up here and thought I'd come check it out. That was the type of man I used to be."

"I-it's just me, sir." Maka stammers, standing up. She's trembling but she hides it well. "There's no one else up here but me." She says it like she's reassuring herself.

"That table..."

"Ah! I'm sorry!" Maka laughs, sounding more composed than before. "I thought I saw a spider and I panicked! I'll pick it up right now!" She jerkily grabs the table and begins to right it, startled when Sid aids her in the task.

His empty eyes land on her hand.

"You're shivering." He observes. "Are you cold?"

"Y-yes!" Maka smiles, strained. The arrows retreat back to their shadows and she feels safer. "It's a little chilly up here, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't know – I'm dead, remember?"

Maka laughs at his joke, taking her book and picking up her bag. "You just sound so alive sometimes that I forget! I'll see you around, sir!" She waves as she makes her way down the spiral stairwell, unable to stop her hands from trembling.

"_Are you scared now?"_

"Quiet!" She hisses, leaving the dusty room in a bellow of white robes. Her Spartoí uniform needs to be refitted because it's tight on her now but the stuffy uniform is the least of her concerns as she makes her way out of Shibusen.

She has to go home before she begins to hallucinate.

It's ironic, how she admires Stein and how now she's also feeling the ghastly effects of insanity. Although her Anti-Magic Wavelength usually exterminates the insanity that lingers in her heart, she cannot activate it properly unless she's resonating.

And Soul and she have been having problems resonating.

They'd gotten in an argument over their training schedule and she'd thrown punched him and stormed to her room. He argued that their new Deathscythe training was getting in the way of their social life and she argued that his Deathscythe training was far _more_ important than a couple of hours out with their friends. But apparently he hadn't seen it like that, and the argument had eventually escalated to dangerous levels.

She shrieks when a shadow lifts from the ground, a static hand reaching for her.

"No—get away!" Maka shuts her eyes and tells herself its not real. When she opens them, she's standing in the middle of the sidewalk, and the few people walking past her are throwing her strange looks.

Her face flushes in embarrassment.

"Damn..." Maka ducks into an alley and leans against the cool brick, cooling her feverish skin. Her trembling has only worsened and she can feel paranoia and panic begin to well in her stomach. She feels watched, like someone is going to leap out from the shadows and assault her, and Asura's sinister chuckles won't quiet under the noise of her panting.

"_Oh, you're so scared. It's pathetic, really, how weak humans are."_

"Shut up..." Maka croaks, sliding down the wall. "You're not real."

"_Are you sure about that?"_

* * *

**A/N: **So, I cheated a little. The final drabble (if you can even _call_ it that; it's huge) is an excerpt from a story I wrote a while ago. But it never got anywhere, so I decided to put it here so you guys can read it :3 And, no, I will not continue it. Trust me, if I did, it'd get NOWHERE.

_Scarlett._


End file.
